


Promise (Reprise)

by eruthiel



Category: Political RPF - UK 20th-21st c.
Genre: Depression, M/M, New Labour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-29
Updated: 2012-09-29
Packaged: 2017-11-15 07:16:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/524617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eruthiel/pseuds/eruthiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony wakes up at night to find Alastair crying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Promise (Reprise)

For the longest time Tony just lay there, uncomprehending. The bedroom curtains were thrown wide open and streetlight fell on the bed in grids, casting shadows on the two men: Alastair, kneeling with the duvet drawn around his shoulders; Tony, propped up by an elbow on his pillow, curly hair in disarray as he gazed up at his lover. He didn't want to consider that he had been the cause of this distress, but in a strange way he didn't want to consider that he _wasn't_ the cause, either. That would mean something or someone else with the power to provoke such a reaction, and Tony couldn't accept a rival with that level of influence over Alastair's guarded emotions.

No words had passed between them at all. Still, Tony lay silent as he watched tears track their way steadily down Alastair's face. The younger man had definitely registered his attention, but seemed adamant not to return it, his pale, shining eyes fixed in the darkness on their bedstead. When the tears had run their course they gathered and fell from his jaw to splash invisibly onto the mattress. More came to take their place.

It was beautiful. Tony found himself transfixed and just a little frustrated that he could take no more active a role than to sit and watch the spectacle unfold, unable for the sake of his conflicting protective instincts even to speculate on the reasons. He'd seen Alastair cry so many times now that he'd lost count - from tiny, bitter tears of anger and exhaustion to noisy sobs of relief, he normally dismissed it so long as it didn't threaten to embarrass either of them. This was different. There was something quite eerie, in fact, in the way Alastair neither tried to stem the flow and hide his tears from Tony, nor turned to him for comfort. He merely knelt there on the mattress, accepting and wordless as tracks dried on his hollow cheeks.

This wasn't just another attack of 'you're taking over my life' or 'those cunts are still cunts' or even 'I failed my kids.' This was something Tony couldn't understand and knew, deep down beneath his natural curiosity and loving concern, that he shouldn't try to probe. It was something weird and private and Tony knew that asking would only earn him a glare and a mumbled lie, but he had to at least show that he cared. That he was jealous.

"What's the matter?" Tony whispered, his dry voice cracking the silence between them. He reached out a hand to cup Alastair's chin and swiped at a tear with his thumb. "Please don't be so upset," he urged, tilting Alastair's unresisting face towards his own in the darkness; "let me make it better."

Slowly, Alastair shook his head. He allowed Tony to wipe down his face with a corner of the duvet before pulling him back down into a hug, the older man's arms enveloping him and refusing to budge. "I wish you'd talk to me," Tony muttered into Alastair's ear. "I love you so much. The least you can do is tell me why you have to cry. I could fix things."

"I don't think you could," was Alastair's flat answer. He sniffed loudly and settled back into Tony's embrace, and it was so cute how he tried to keep his voice steady as he added: "I woke you up."

"No," Tony told him vaguely, "no, it's all right. It's all right." He planted a kiss in the crook of Alastair's neck and closed his eyes, breathing in the scent of the tearful man and clutching him tighter still, because if Alastair wouldn't ask for what he needed then Tony would just have to guess.


End file.
